


Creature of Daylight

by rosncrntz



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula (2020), Dracula (BBC), Dracula (TV 2020), Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: Backstory, Character Study, Developing Relationship, During Canon, M/M, Pre-Canon, kinda soulmates, light and dark, lots of thoughts and feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22166575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosncrntz/pseuds/rosncrntz
Summary: Dracula is a creature of the night who yearns for the warmth of the sunlight.There are those, he has heard, whose bodies are formed from light, whose souls are like the summertime, whose blood tastes of her.To feed on such a man; that would be to bask in the sun.
Relationships: Count Dracula/Jonathan Harker, Jonathan Harker/Mina Harker
Comments: 17
Kudos: 221





	1. Chapter 1

Folk stories spoke of men who were scripted in light.

Old wives and ageing mystics reported them; those whose bodies were sculpted from the warmth of the sun. It was said that their minds were dappled with springtime, that the course of their life flashed with summertimes. Tales held that they were, to all appearances, much like humans, indeed almost identical, but their hearts were bigger and brighter, their souls were softer and kinder, and - though outwardly unremarkable - they perhaps came closer than any other human to heaven itself.

Few and far between, the stories said, and perhaps not there at all. But just as they told myths of a creature of the night, there was a creature of the daylight to match him.

A man bred in moonlight and ash longed to discover such a one.

But, for four hundred years, Count Dracula lamented that this strange sunlit species had evaded him. Once in a red moon, he would find someone he thought sure to be sunlit. Once it was a young woman with golden hair, long, loose, and seemingly endless when she tossed those curls behind her swan-like neck. Another time it was a gentleman with a strong, hard jaw and two hazel eyes which, when he turned smiling towards the window, shone like amber, or like daylight passing through a jar of honey. Once it was an old Countess with a breathtaking smile. Once it was a lad fresh from his years at Oxford whose skin was flushed so prettily pink that he seemed to be lit by an internal match. Something passionate existed in all these souls. Dracula had seen the sunlight in them; or he thought he had seen the sunlight in them.

But when he came to feed upon them, their blood did not inspire. The young lady’s blood tasted of marzipan. The golden-eyed gentleman tasted of tobacco. The Countess tasted of musk, whilst the young scholar tasted of parchment and ink. None of them tasted like warmth, like summer’s days of old. Not a single drop of their blood, being sucked, tasted richer, nor flowed down his throat more thickly.

He subscribed them to myth merely in the end, though that needy core of him still wondered how the blood of such a one would really taste. Whether to feed on such a man would feel like bathing in _her_.

On the darkest nights, then the shadows are deep and inky and the nighttime seems vast and impenetrable like jet black velvet, the Count consoles himself with the thought that, if he were to meet a sunlit person, he would know them instinctively, unmistakably. Their voices would be low and melodic like the steady beating of warmth on a hot day.

In his mind they walked in beauty like the day.

Meanwhile, Count Dracula stalked the night. And he waited.

Four hundred years was a long time to wait for one particular day, in the middle of the summertime, in England.

Jonathan Harker was conceived on the longest day of the year, beside a window whose loose curtains feebly batted the golden light from the room. His mother, then a girl of mere twenty-two, watched the sun setting behind the western hill whilst her husband, Harker’s father, traced a gentle and steady line of kisses across her ribcage, down to her hipbone, and up to the hollow of her neck where it met her shoulder. All this while, Harker’s mother did not stir in ticklish laughter nor impatience, but remained still and sleepy, watching the sun turn from white to orange as it squinted it’s one great eye and allowed the purple twilight it’s dominion.

Jonathan Harker was born, nine months later, at the first turn of spring in Devon. The rural land was beginning to green, the sheep in the field on the hill were beginning to lamb, and the songbirds were beginning to nest. A lark, just outside the window where Mrs Harker lay, was giving melodious music. It was the first sound Jonathan Harker ever heard. The melody of the lark marked his passage into the world and, as his mother proudly observed, he was the healthiest and brightest little boy she ever did see.

Johnny’s boyhood was measured out on the banks of the River Exe. Plumpish, and active, he was most fond of sailing model boats along the shallows, watched keenly by his mother, and encouraged by his father. His mother would waddle down the bank, hitching her white skirts up, and paddle with her son. The water was always very cold. When Johnny came of age, he still enjoyed working on riverbanks rather than stuffy offices or libraries and, when the weather would permit, one would find him constantly outside in some field or park, he enjoyed the feeling of sunlight so much.

Jonathan Harker first fell in love beneath the solemn and quiet sun of an autumn’s day, when its light passed uninhibited through the orange and yellow canopies. Mina Murray, Jonathan was convinced, was sunshine incarnate. There could not be one with such a fair and beautiful complexion, with such a sweet voice and endearing laugh, who had not captured within her soul the very essence of the sunlight. To view her, Jonathan thought, was to bask in _her_. But to delight in her company, and participate in her conversation! That was a blessing more precious than all the days of sunshine he could fathom.

Blue-eyed Johnny proposed in the winter sun. Bright, clean, white, when the untrod snow lay thick on the ground. He had stayed with the Murrays for Christmastime, and had asked Mr Murray for his daughter’s hand on Christmas Eve. He had proposed on Christmas morning, assured of her heart and assured, by the sparkle of her gaze and the playful way that she had begun to address him, that her inclination was turned his way. She did not weep - she prided herself in not being so silly - but she could not mistake the familiar prickle of tears once her face was hidden in the woollen shoulder of his greatcoat. They kissed and kissed and, though it was midwinter, both Jonathan and Mina were convinced that it was warm as midsummer.

Jonathan Harker could not perceive of a facet of humanity not touched in some way, in some particular and integral way, by the sunshine.

Therefore, he did not fear his travel to Transylvania, for his life had been an open vista. All things had, in the end, been pleasant to him. He had possessed his fair share of sadness, as any man does, but Harker had a stoical and optimistic temperament which, when surveying the state of the earth, felt glad that it was full of such kindnesses. People such as Mina, such as his dear parents, who were the best souls he could imagine.

Count Dracula could not imagine of a man not plagued in some way, in some intense and undeniable way, by the dark.

_Jonathan Harker._

Dracula read the name, waiting for the man’s arrival, with little expectation. Harker would be just like the rest of them, he thought. But he must bide his time. He must feed on something.

He must wait for his sun to dawn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan prepares to leave England. He believes he is leaving the sunshine behind. Mina knows he takes it with him.

The sun dawned on the morning of Jonathan Harker’s departure and Mina Murray had risen from her bed early to call upon her fiancé before he left. Last night they had parted when he called at her house, but it had been so brief, so painful, and – worse – it had been in the company of her family, that watchful gaze which allowed for no intimacy and none of the adoration she wished to heap upon her dear Johnny blue-eyes. She could not be satisfied if last night was their parting before Jonathan went away on his journey. She must see him again.

She had not announced herself this morning. She seldom did. Instead, Jonathan Harker was musing over a half-packed briefcase when he heard a knocking at his door and, upon walking across the hall and opening the front door, he was surprised to find that no sooner had he opened the door that two arms were thrown tightly about his neck, and he received a noseful of blonde hair.

“Mina!”

“Oh, Johnny, I had to come and see you,” were the words thrown over his shoulder as the woman’s grip on the back of his neck refused to budge or loosen.

“What is the matter with you? We said goodbye yesterday evening!” he chided, but there was no edge to his voice, no genuine remonstrance, and the smirk that pervaded his lips came out in his tone and, though she could not see him, Mina heard his smile. His hand rested on her lower back and, leaning back to accommodate her embrace, her feet left the floor for a moment, and he lifted her backwards into the hall with a kiss planted softly on her forehead. “I did miss you, though.”

Breaking their hold, Mina staggered backwards with a groan and cried, “Yesterday was so formal! I couldn’t bear it!”

Jonathan closed the door as he asked, sceptically, “And what did you tell your mother you were doing this morning?”

“I told her that I had things to collect from the schoolroom.”

“’Things’ being?”

“She doesn’t ask. I don’t tell.”

“You are wicked, Wilhelmina Murray!” he crooned, gaining another kiss from her, greedily and this time from her lips. She pulled away harshly, though.

“You know I hate it when you call me that, Jonathan Harker.”

“What can I say? You’ve been a very bad school mistress indeed, Miss Murray.” His tone was teasing. It made her feel as if she was full of butterflies.

“I am led astray by a very, very wicked lawyer.”

“Are you now?”

“No, not at all,” Mina confessed. Then, fixing his eye, she giggled, “In fact, this lawyer is the biggest goody-two-shoes in the whole of England!”

“And you would not have me any other way!” Jonathan replied. This was true. This was entirely true. He was satisfied that he had won the verbal affray, and he planted a final triumphant kiss on her soft cheek.

Mina suddenly grew sad and impatient and cried, “Oh! I will miss you horribly, Jonathan! Do you have to go?”

“We have discussed this…” Jonathan began, turning and making his way back towards his bag. Mina pursued him, hot on his heels and, as is the way with all lovers, though Jonathan ran from her, he fled very slowly.

“I know,” Mina replied. She was a sensible girl, after all. Well, half-sensible perhaps. Sensible in all things, except for when she gazed into Jonathan Harker’s blue eyes – and then she was remarkably, shamefully, silly. “But, well perhaps I could… I could come with you?”

Jonathan turned again, this time to his fiancée, and he looked her up and down. The white lace trim of her petticoat was emerging from the bottom of her silvery blue gown and the small yet sensible grey hat that sat atop her golden curls was neatly adjusted at a slightly jaunty angle and her hands were adorned with two fine white gloves. She was the picture of perfection – but certainly not one for Transylvania.

“I do not think so, Mina.”

“Why ever not?” returned his fiancée, stridently.

“What could you think of doing in Transylvania?” he asked, beginning to pack more things into his bag, half-absentmindedly.

“Very many things! I do like the snow. And every house needs a woman’s touch, perhaps he would be grateful for it.”

“It’s a castle, Mina. I don’t think it is your idea of home renovation.”

Mina’s eyes widened as she replied, “Is it? You never told me that. Now I want to come with you desperately!”

“Mina, please!” Jonathan sighed, trying to fasten the buckles on his case and failing quite miserably. Mina, seeing her fiancé’s distress, batted his hands away and made easy work of the buckles whilst Jonathan continued, “Besides, Count Dracula has prepared only for the arrival of one. It would be rude indeed to expect him to cater for a second.”

“Count Dracula? Is that his name?”

“Why, yes. Did I not tell you all this? I’m getting awfully forgetful…”

“Count… _Drrrah-cula!_ ” Mina cried, despite Jonathan’s fussing, in a mock-Transylvanian drawl, instinctively clawing her hands. She thought it sounded very Gothic indeed. Just the sort of person one would expect to live in a castle, and just the sort of castle to have skeletons in its closets. Jonathan blushed on behalf of Mina, and yet she continued. “Mr Harker! Where do you think you’re going?” she cried, continuing the character.

Jonathan was typically clueless, “I’m not going anywhere. I-”

“You cannot leave, Mr Harker!” Jonathan began to catch on to the act, and breathed a laugh. “I cannot let you go! You are just… too… handsome!” She began to creep up on Jonathan, extravagantly, flourishing an invisible cape and barely supressing her laugh.

“Is that right?” Jonathan replied. His voice was lower than before.

“You must stay in my castle forever. You are _mine_ , Mr Harker!” Mina’s hands reached Jonathan’s shoulders and, as she clasped them, she leant her face in until she could feel his hot breath ghosting on her cheek.

“And what will you do with me?” Jonathan whispered.

Mina drew close to Jonathan’s ear, and whispered, in a voice as rich as honey, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” And suddenly her lips caught his earlobe as she heard him stammer a gasp.

“Oh, Mina…”

A shaft of sunlight broke through the window and fell upon Jonathan, dazzling him for a moment, and dragging him unwillingly from his fantasy.

“No! Mina, we mustn’t,” he groaned, weakly prying her off. She allowed herself to be placed at a distance, however much it frustrated both of them. “I must pack. My carriage will arrive within the hour.” He began to pack in earnest, thinking naively that the task at hand would distract him from that pressing need of his. Mina watched him, perching herself on the arm of a sofa and resigning herself to silence. She would not cry this morning. It would not be long at all and then he would be back in her arms.

And then they would be married!

Mina was going to pick out her wedding lace and pattern this week, when Jonathan was gone. She had planned it, so that he would not be around to disturb her, and so there would be no chance that he would wander in and see it and spoil the surprise. But she did not think then that she would miss him so much. When Jonathan left, she thought, he took the sun with him.

“Do write to me, Jonathan.”

“Of course! Of course, I will!” he assured her with a kind smile.

“And do not take all the sunshine when you go.”

It was this comment that took Jonathan aback. He paused, almost laughed, and with creased brows asked, “What do you mean? What a strange thing to say. You keep all the sunshine with you!”

This made Mina laugh, though Jonathan noticed her laugh was not as sweet as it usually was.

“You have nothing to worry about. It’s not a hard journey. The Count will be a good sort of fellow. You needn’t fear.” He heard the carriage pull up outside. “I will be back before you know it, Mina.” Jonathan had promised himself that he would not cry; he had not last night, and he would not this morning. He pulled her into a tight hug. Her cheek rested on his chest. His chin rested on the top of her head. “Be brave, my sweet.”

It did not matter what Mina pleaded, it was inevitable that, as soon as he climbed into the carriage and waved at her through the small window as it trundled away and turned the corner with only the call of “I love you, Mina!” echoing behind it, he took the sunshine with him.

This sunshine crossed the sea.

Count Dracula sensed it. Like a smell, a sensation, like the feeling of warmth on his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a very Jonathan-centric chapter, but I do love him so much! But next chapter he'll be arriving at Castle Dracula, so keep your eyes peeled!
> 
> Thank you for all your lovely comments thus far, and do keep them coming!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little multi-chap fic reimagining/adding to Jonathan’s time at Castle Dracula and expanding upon the dynamic of them being light/dark etc. I thought that was such an interesting idea and wanted to explore it further - so I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I haven’t read the book in AGES so if this doesn’t line up with book canon then I do apologise.
> 
> There will be another chapter coming soon, with Jonathan reaching the castle, so stay tuned. And, in the meantime, let me know your thoughts down below!


End file.
